Rascals, Scoundrals, Villians, and Knaves
by Swashbuckling Rogue
Summary: A character hated by Port Royal escapes... again. Maybe this time it's for good. And no, it's no one you've heard of before. May turn into JackOC later... but I haven't decided yet. Chapters 4 & 5 are up.
1. The Pros and Cons of Breathing

Disclaimer: I, by no means, own PotC. If I did, I wouldn't be writing stories... I'd be writing a script.  
  
Note: I apologize for grammatical and spelling errors. I might be able to type fast... but that says nothing for my proofreading abilities.  
  
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Chapter 1 - The Pros and Cons of Breathing  
  
No one could really explain why she constantly escaped. The only place she had to go was right back into the hands of the executioner, but somehow she seemed to be able to outrun them just long enough to gain herself another day, or maybe a week, of life. No one really knew how she escaped either, because the cell was always closed and locked with no prisoner inside. Something was definitely fishy about the little orphan girl. The whole of Port Royal hated her, perhaps because they knew nothing about her. She seemed to be completely obsessed with being solitary, for when she wasn't imprisoned, she could always be found sitting on the battlements of the for, or sitting on the dock, staring into the horizon. She never spoke in her own defense, and rarely spoke otherwise. No one knew her real name; they all just called her a rat.  
  
"She'll be around here somewhere," shouted one of the guards. "She never really did learn how to hide properly. Search the fort!"  
  
Now they were looking for her again. But they didn't realize that she hadn't really run too far away. She was standing on the streets, waiting for them to find her again, but they never really learned that she was getting tired of running. She was getting bored of the routine captures... it was time for a little excitement. If all if earned her was a trip straight to the gallows, se was ready for her fate. After all, there was no adventure left in her life but death itself.  
  
There was no more fun.  
  
It was boring to escape the same way she always did, and it was boring to run away and hide. It was definitely boring to be caught again and have the process repeat itself endlessly. So this time, she decided it should be a little different. She decided she would fight. She stared down on the street from the roof on the blacksmith's shop, waiting for the soldiers to all pass. Quietly and slowly, almost mechanically, she slipped out of their sight and straight through the front door of the shop. She hoped that no one would be waiting for her on the other side of the door. Old Mr. Brown was a hopeless drunk, so he wouldn't be awake long enough during the day to see her come in. But not Will. Will was always working, and she hoped that the silence that greeted her as she entered wasn't the silence of an ambush.  
  
Her hears were confirmed at once by the flat of a sword coming down on her hand as she tried to take one in her own. She turned her head slowly toward the source of the action, and saw Will, glaring down at her from beside the furnace.  
  
"You, girl, what are you doing in here?" Will spat, bringing the blade to a steady position next to her face. She didn't answer, fearing that speaking would throw off the balance of his sword. "How do you keep getting out of those cells? Well? His impatience was growing, but the expression on his face seemed slightly amused. Still, she couldn't stay silent for much longer.  
  
"Ask me no questions, I'll tell you no lies," she replied as she started slowly backing away from the tip of the sword that rested inches from her face. Surprisingly, Will lowered it and stared blankly at her.  
  
"No one knows your name, or where you came from. And they are all baffled at how you get out of the cells on a regular basis." The girl raised an eyebrow and stared at him. Will looked as though his mind was battling with itself. He came to a decision and added, "Tell me, and I shall let you go."  
  
"Why would you let me go?" she barked. Years of being chased, taunted, and jeered at had taught her not to trust a bargain with such low stakes. "There must be a catch." She glanced around nervously, looking for a way to run out. It was only when Will set his sword aside that she calmed down.  
  
"I'm not the best person for capturing criminals." Seeing the odd expression on her face, he added helpfully, "My dad was a pirate. And I've engaged in a little healthy pirating myself."  
  
The first time that anyone had ever seen a shred of hope in her eyes was at that very moment. She felt like she should definitely stick around. She envied pirates... she wished she could call herself one.  
  
"A pirate?" she questioned, not believing her ears. "I've always wanted to meet a pirate."  
  
"Well, now you have. Now tell me who you are." He grinned as she sighed and thought of the best way to describe herself.  
  
"I'm an orphan," she said softly. "I don't have a name, on account of I don't know it." She took this time to fiddle with a cloth tied around her wrist. "I don't even know that much about myself, to tell you the truth. All that I know is that everyone seems to have a problem with me." Will looked a bit disappointed at this response, but he quickly regained his composure.  
  
"So you don't have a name?" She just stood there and shook her head.  
  
"From what I hear," she stated, a disgusted look on her face, "everyone just calls me Rat. So I guess that's the only identity I have."  
  
Suddenly there was a loud bang on the door, and angry voices could be heard from outside. The girl reacted very quickly, sneaking into a dark corner and hiding behind a barrel of swords. She took one out for herself, just in case the worst should happen. Will looked over into the corner where she had concealed herself, and he immediately began to hammer a piece of hot steel from the furnace.  
  
"Mr. Turner, have you seen that girl around here? She seems to have found a new place to hide." Commodore Norrington had just entered the shop, and Will glanced at him in innocent surprise.  
  
"No, not at all. I didn't know she had gotten away again. Shall I go and fix the cell?" Will didn't dare look into the corner. He turned back to his work as the Commodore carefully surveyed the building.  
  
"No, she seemed to escaped right under our noses, and the cell was locked tight when we went to check. She seems to have found a way to get out without breaking anything. She's very clever, just not the most wonderful child in the world." He took one last look around before giving up, and then moved toward the door. "Perhaps she has finally decided to leave? Or maybe, with our luck, she's following us around. Wherever she is, it'll be straight to the gallows as soon as we find her. She's a disgrace to the town. Good day, Mr. Turner." Will nodded as the Commodore shut the door, and continued his hammering. It would seem that he himself had forgotten that there was a fugitive hidden in the corner.  
  
"Put the sword back, please," he said so suddenly that it made her jump. She came out from behind the barrel, placing the weapon back in it.  
  
"Again, you've spared my life. Why?" she asked. He continued to pound on the piece of steel which was becoming an ax. She glanced back at the barrel of swords, longing to sneak one away. He broke the silence, noticing her stare and the look of admiration for his creations.  
  
"Because you're only a child. And you don't deserve to die." He stood and walked over to the barrel, rummaged around in it for a moment, and pulled a particularly well-crafted blade. He held out the handle to her, and she stared at it, shocked.  
  
"Take it," he urged. She grasped it gingerly, grinning broadly and eventually gripping it tightly. This was the first time she felt she could trust someone. The first time she didn't have to suck in her gut to keep from showing her flaws. The first time she thought she'd done something right. "I don't know that it'll do you much good if you get captured again, though," he said, interrupting her momentary bliss.  
  
"It's not my choice to get caught, you know," she snapped, rather offended. Did he think that she actually liked getting caught?  
  
"Don't be so defensive," he replied, not at all shaken from her harsh response. He looked at her, waiting for another verbal attack, but it didn't come.  
  
"I don't have anywhere to go when I escape," she admitted quietly, making it a point to look down at her feet. "So it's taken the thrill out of everything. I don't know why I keep leaving... death is the only thing left in my life. There's nothing else." Will stepped up to her and put his hands on her shoulders. She jumped and looked up at him.  
  
"You are not useless, you are not a rat." He shook her slightly with every word. She stared at him, utterly confused. "You're going to stay here until we can get you out of here. You will not go back to prison, and you will not be hung." He led her to a room in the back, obviously where he slept. "They'll be back soon, because they don't trust me as much as I'd like them to. Don't say anything unless I talk to you, go it?"  
  
"I still don't understand why you're doing this," she said as he began to close the door. He just paused and stared at her for a moment, and then continued on his way, shutting the door behind him. She shook her head and smiled, hanging on the first instance of someone helping her out. Her first acquaintance that didn't want her hung.  
  
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There's the first chapter, I hope you liked it. Please review if you get the chance... I appreciate any kind of feedback. 


	2. Upside Down from Here

Disclaimer (again): With the not owning of PotC and all that good stuff...   
  
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"So, tell me again why I'm doing this," she questioned. After all, stowing away in a crate on the docks didn't seem like the ideal getaway.   
  
"Do you want to get out of here, or not?" Will asked, preparing to hammer the lid shut as she attempted to get herself into a comfortable position. There was none to be found.   
  
"Do you think I'll ever see you again?" she asked. This was a very odd feeling; she actually didn't want to leave Port Royal and her new friend.   
  
"It's not probable, but it could happen. Now duck down so I can nail you in." Will wasted no time in doing so, either. The box shook with every rhythmic pound, and then there was silence.   
  
"Will?" she asked, wondering if she was really on her own. When no reply came, she sighed and busied herself with a button on her jacket.   
  
~~   
  
It seemed like days before there was any movement on the other side of her new prison. And it wasn't exactly the most fun she'd had all her life, but the fact that she had no way of getting out, and the fact that she might actually be able to start a new life elsewhere, kept her awake most of the time. There were occasions when she heard voices outside, and she wondered if they were going to carry her off onto a ship. Then there were times when the top of the crate sank close to her face, signifying that someone needed a good sit. Nevertheless, she was beginning to become tired of waiting, and just tired in general.   
  
"Come on now, load it up! And be quick about it, unless you want the whole of Port Royal down on yeh!" The box was once again shaking, but it wasn't being hammered on, it was being lifted.   
  
"This one's really heavy, captain!" a strained voice said. He was obviously the one trying to lift the orphan onto her new temporary home. It was a very bumpy and uncomfortable journey onto the ship.   
  
"There better be somethin' good in here, fer all that work," complained the same voice, now less strained. The crate had been flipped upside down and sideways, so the little girl was now situated on her head. It seemed that whoever it was that had brought her aboard had now left, and she was alone somewhere on a ship. For all she knew, it belonged to a pirate.   
  
~~   
  
(Just a note. This is most likely gonna turn into a Jack/Girl [because I don't know her name yet] fic. Sorry, but I just can't resist sometimes.)   
  
~~   
  
Despite the very uncomfortable position that she had been tossed into, she found a way to get to sleep. Dreaming was one of the things she did on a regular basis, especially since she always thought too much before going to sleep. But she was woken abruptly by a pounding on her box.   
  
"AHH STOP!" she screamed as she saw the tip of an ax penetrate the box right next to her legs that were sticking up in the air. There were questioning whispers that followed, which seemed to be coming to a quick decision.   
  
"I knew there was something heavy in there. Get the captain, he'll know what to do with a stowaway." Her breathing quickened and she hurried to adjust herself so it wouldn't look so odd if they actually decided to get her out. All that she managed was to get her arm out from under her back, which, in her opinion, was better than nothing at all.   
  
"State your name and purpose in that box, missy," said a slightly slurred voice. She hesitated, not knowing what name she could give him. She quickly decided on a name at that very moment.   
  
"My name is... uh... well, it's... Ra... Sa... uhm... it's not important.. Yeah. And my purpose in this box was upset by it being turned over. I was trying to get out of Port Royal." She stared into the empty darkness of the top of the box, wanting so much to get out.   
  
"Well, Miss, do yeh have a last name, by chance?" She panicked. Nothing could have prepared her for giving a full name to a stranger. So she decided to give in and tell the truth.   
  
"Okay, so I don't have a name." She seemed to be quite enjoying telling the truth the complete strangers that she couldn't see at all. She just wanted out.   
  
"Well, what kind of person wouldn't give their child a name?" Her heart crashed.   
  
"Dead parents," she stated, rather offended. "They died right after I was born. I'm an orphan, with nothing to live for. I figured if I got into this box, I could at least have something somewhere else. So that's my name and purpose, I suppose." She stared coldly at where she thought they might be standing. She didn't want to be here anymore. She'd rather be hung than have to relive her childhood again.   
  
"Well then, would you like to be gettin' out of that box, now?" chimed the voice, sounding rather... amused.   
  
Amused. He thinks this is funny, right? So, my life is a joke, a great entertainment feature. She decided she wouldn't be too happy with whoever this was.   
  
"If it's too much trouble, by all means, leave me in here. Just do me the decency of keeping the 'This End Up'... up." She stared at her hand waiting for some kind of response, not really expecting anything over another. Again there were whispers, but they sounded in deep thought, obviously wondering whether to throw her overboard or leave her in the box. After a few more seconds, she felt the box shake, and she was flipped. Although it wasn't very helpful (they had flipped her on her face), at least they were taking some action. Again, the box was flipped, and she landed on her side. "You could have just flipped it once the other way!" she protested, after they finally got it back right side up.   
  
"Sorry, Miss, but you're gonna have to watch whatever's closest to the top. Although you don't seem to want us to, we're cutting you out." She heard sniggers all around, but she stopped listening when the ax blade came back down through the box. It was getting dangerously close to her face with every hit. Just when she thought it was going to slice her for sure, the top was pried off and sunlight smashed into her eyes, blinding her temporarily. She shook her face and stared at the people in front of her.   
  
They were pirates. 


	3. The Places You Have Come to Fear the Mos...

She shut her eyes tight, scared that they might take the ax down on her at any moment. Though she always longed to meet pirates, and even be one, she didn't want this to be the circumstanse to which that happened. After all, someone standing over you with an ax wasn't exactly welcoming.  
  
"Come on now, Miss, let's get you out of there." She finally opened her eyes, staring right at the obvious captain of the ship. He had long, black hair with beads and dreads tied in, and a tri-corner hat sitting atop it all. He grinned, showing a mouthful of golden teeth, and held out his hands to assist in getting her out.  
  
"Thanks." She gingerly took his outstretched hands and allowed herself to be lifted from the now damaged crate. She stared back at it apprehensively, brushing herself off from the shower of wood chips she had gotten into earlier.  
  
"You're just a little kid!" exclaimed one of the crew. Everyone's gaze was interrupted from the new addition to the ship by this comment, and they all went silent, staring at the outburst. The captain broke the silence.  
  
"Well now, you must be hungry, love. How long have you been in that box of yours?" The thought just occured to her... that she had no idea. And it also occured to her that she was indeed very, very hungry.  
  
"I think it's been days," she said truthfully. She had heard the same people come and go on the dock at least twice, and she had studied the people in Port Royal so much, that she was pretty sure she knew what she was talking about. Plus, she was unable to move without being in severe pain, as a result of being cramped up for days at a time.  
  
"Alright, well, if yeh follow me, I'll get you somethin to eat," said the Captain. She contemplated how she was going to tell him that she couldn't move. She decided to suck it up and forced herself to take a step forward. 'Motivate and focus,' she thought to herself as she slowly placed one foot in front of the other, following the crew onto the deck.  
  
"By the way, sir, what's your name?" she questioned. She liked to know who the people were that didn't hate her, because she knew too many that did.  
  
"Captain Jack Sparrow, at your service, love," he replied, noticing and seemingly enjoying the fact that she was having difficulty moving "Need some help, there?" she asked.  
  
"No, I'll be fine. Best thing to do is just move," she stated, wincing at the soreness of her whole body. She really did long for some help, but she wasn't about to accept it from sone random... wait... Captain... Jack... SPARROW?!  
  
"Wait.. Jack... Sparrow?!" she exclaimed loudly, causing the crew to jump and Jack himself to turn around and stare in surprise.  
  
"The same," he said. "And it's Captain, love, Captain. Does that name ring a bell or something?"  
  
"Yes, it does. Will always talked about you. With that girl. Elizabeth. I think that was her name..." Blank stares followed this comment. Creating awkward silences was a great passtime.  
  
"Will... Turner, perhaps?" A look of comprehension dawned on her face. So all those stories that she had overheard will telling were true. He really had gone on an adventure with the Captain Jack Sparrow.  
  
"Absolutely," she said. "And it makes so much more sense to me now..." She smiled to herself at her own stupidity. Will must have known Jack was coming. "How long have you been planning on coming to Port Royal?" she asked offhandedly.  
  
"Well, we got a letter from dear William that there were to be a load of weapons shipped out. He didn't by chance... lie to us, did he?" A tinge of fear crossed her mind. She quickly remembered that Will had been making said load of weapons the day she had met him.  
  
"No, there should be some in one of those boxes," she said, looking pointedly back down to the other crates which they had stolen.  
  
"So, dear, where is it you came from? Always lived in Port Royal, have you?" They had reached the deck and were still meandering across it, but she suddently came to a hault with a twisted look on her face. It was very hard to remember back that long, for more reasons than one. It was such a long time ago... and it definitely wasn't the best time of her life, so she'd tried to block it out.  
  
"I... I used to live somewhere else..." she thought aloud, trying very hard to remember. "It started with a T... err..." Something about not being able to remember pained her, even though she knew she'd rather forget. "Tur... no no, Ter... no..." It was on the tip of her tongue, but it just wouldn't come out. "Turtle... no no, that's not right either..."  
  
"Do you remember what it was like?" Jack asked with a quirked eyebrow. She hesitated and thought for a moment before replying.  
  
"Everyone was very odd... and it was always very smelly..." she paused to think agained as she reminisced about her earlier life in the smelly place with odd people. "And there were always a lot of drunks..."  
  
"TORTUGA!" screamed Anna Maria. That definitely sounded familiar.  
  
"Yes," she said bluntly. "That's it." She couldn't understand why Anna Maria knew the name of that place, but then again, it did seem like a great place for a pirate to be.  
  
"You lived in Tortuga?" Jack questioned. His expression showed that of a man piecing together a pizzle, about to finally see the big picture. The little girl was confused, and stared at him, waiting for him to say something else. "Do you perhaps remember a man... name of John Decken? People called him Poop Deck." She immediately thought he was nuts. But then, after thinking about it, the name seemed offly familiar. Then, like lightning, her memories struck her brain.  
  
"Wait... he wore a really large belt over his shoulder... and had a hat that was so worn out, it looked like he took a pistol to it..." She was shocked at how she could remember that. She looked up at Jack, who was smiling triumphantly. She resumed her thoughts alound. "And then there was a woman... she always wore this long scarlet colored dress with black boots. I forget her name... but she died with that man, John Decken. They were shot and killed..." Her head was swinning in distant memories. But now, they seemed like they were sneaking up on her, and she couldn't take that much thought in her mind at one time. She flung herself into a chair and placed her head in her hands, mumbling, "Why do I remember this now... why does that have anything to do with me..."  
  
"You know, love, I believe I might be able to tell you exactly what they have to do with yeh." Jack Sparrow, Captain of the Black Pearl, was grinning his golden little teeth out. 


	4. The Quiet Things that No One Ever Knows

'I definitely didn't bargain for this when I got into that crate,' she thought to herself. Her head was spinning madly. She didn't know this man past his name, yet it seemed that he knew more about her than she did herself. It was very frustrating and very annoying. She wanted to jump off the ship, but she continued to sit with her face buried in her hands, waiting for something to happen. Jack Sparrow was not making this easier. In fact, he looked amused at the whole situation. When she didn't move, he got disappointed and motioned for his crew to go elsewhere. It was obvious that none of them liked the silence.  
  
"Come with me," Jack said, holding out a hand to help her off of her chair. She stared at it for a moment and stood up without touching him. He looked offended, but shook it off and began walking towards his cabin. She took a moment to stare into the ocean before following. They were in the middle of it; no land on any side. She sighed as she stepped into the cabin, glancing around as Jack closed to door.  
  
"Any reason you know more about my life than I do?" she asked, more harshly than she had intended, and hoping that it hadn't phased him. It didn't.  
  
"Well, maybe because I've been around longer than you, and I can remember things better from back then." He wasn't being much help, but at least someone was talking now. He motioned for her to sit down at the table as he took a seat himself. She sat opposite him and stared at her feet. "Come on now, love, what's the matter with yeh? Why ain't yeh talkin'?" He didn't seem the least bit concerned. Maybe he was getting bored with silence, as everyone was.  
  
"Because I'm frustrated," she stated plainly. She didn't want to sound angry or mean, but that's how it came out. She rubbed her face with her hands and decided to stare at Jack until he said something.  
  
"Well, don't yeh wanna know about ol' Johnny Decken and yer mystery lady?" he asked politely. She nodded and gazed pointlessly at the bone that was obviously tied into his hair. "Well, I think this may be a very important story, so you'd best be listenin'," he said. She yawned and nodded again, this time fixing her gaze on his face and concentrating hard on listening and not falling asleep, or dying of hunger. She was now becoming aware of how tired and hungry she really was. "Now, John and the lady, her name was Jessica Lynn, they were engaged, yeh see. Always together, as you remember. They'd apparently been in love for a while, and they had a little kid. I knew Johnny well, but Jessica, well, she was a bit out of my league." She wondered what he had meant by that. But she didn't waste time thinking about it, because he had continued with his story. "Well, one day, they was walkin' together down by the docks in Tortuga. They picked a bad day to be doin' that, though. That was the same day the Royal Navy came and raided the whole bloody town, and them two were the first to get caught, and shot, like you said." She really didn't know where this was going, but she was still interested. Jack sure did know how to tell a story. "I believe this may be important to you..." Jack began, looking slightly reluctant to continue, "because... John and Jessica were your parents."  
  
~~  
  
One would not call this a mild shock. They would call it complete and udder chaos. As soon as Jack had said those words, the orphan passed out from either shock, tiredness, or hunger. It might have been all three. She slid from her chair and fell to the ground, unconscious. Jack looked completely confused, and he definitely didn't register the fact that she might have needed to be woken up. "Hello?" he asked to her lifeless form on the floor. He looked around the room to be sure that there wasn't anything that would help before he began to knock on her forehead. "Come on now, deary, wake up." He glanced around again and spotted a bucket full of water. Jack grinned broadly and took the bucket in his arms, walked back over to the girl lying on his cabin floor, and dumped the whole contents onto her face. She spluttered and spat and rolled onto her stomach, trying to shield herself from another attack of freezing cold water.  
  
"What was that for?!" she screamed at him, now shoving herself up off of the ground. She glared at him, but he only chuckled and handed her a towel. He seemed to be quite enjoying causing her as much discomfort as possible.  
  
"Sorry about that, love, but you fell off of me chair," he said, nodding in the direction of said chair.  
  
"Well, you're the one who... wait.. what did you tell me before I passed out?" she asked, completely and honestly forgetting what he had told her that could possibly be so shocking.  
  
"You don't remember? Well, I'm not sure I want to tell you again, for risk of another black out..." he said, looking at her with a bit of concern in his expression.  
  
"Just tell me, and if I fall over again, you have permission to douse me with mass amounts of water." She sniggered at her own comment. That was the funniest thing she'd said in a while.  
  
"All right, if you insist. I said, John Decken and Jessica Lynn were you parents." She stared blankly at him for the longest time, trying to register this. Parents? Her mind kept taking sides... I don't have any parents, she thought, but another part of her interrupted, It does seem logical, you know. They always looked after you...  
  
"Are... are you sure?" she said slowly, just to be sure she could still speak. Jack nodded and she decided that she had no reason not to trust him.  
  
"So, if you knew them... do you know my name?" she asked, hoping the answer would be yes. She couldn't stand being nameless any longer in her life. She hated being 'That Girl'.  
  
"Well, as a matter of fact, I do."  
  
~~~~~  
  
Oh, a nice little summary of the next chapter...  
  
It's the shortest chapter yet, and I'm deeply sorry for that.  
  
She gets a name! FINALLY! I'm excited... I hope you are. 


	5. My Best Mistake

"You are a Decken, Miss. You happen to be a full blood born and bred pirate, except you didn't get to know that because of what happened to yer parents and all." Jack Sparrow grabbed a half-full bottle of rum from the table and sloshed it around before taking a huge swig. He offered it to her, but she shook her head.  
  
"Not until you tell me my name," she said firmly. She did love rum, but she decided to keep from indulging until she knew everything that she wanted to. Jack sighed and set the bottle back down.  
  
"Yer name, love, is Josie. Short for Josephine. Yer parents liked the J names, if yeh can understand that." Josie. So after all this time, she finally had an identity. She grinned broadly, eyeing the rum.  
  
~~  
  
"And really bad eggs?" Josie questioned, listening to Jack sing a song that he said Elizabeth had taught him. "What a wonderful song.."  
  
"Ain't it, though?" Jack stated more than asked, searching around for another bottle. The two of them had gone through quite a few already, but both seemed eager for more. While Jack acted about the same drunk as he did sober, rum had a completely unorthodox effect on Josie. She seemed to become much more alert and insightful while piss-ant drunk.  
  
"Any more left?" she asked as Jack began searching in a distant corner of the room. He grunted and Josie frowned. "Come on, now..."  
  
"I thought there was some more in here..." he began, lifting his head out of a box. "But I guess not... and it's stormin' out there... I don't feel like going inta the storage place..." Jack groaned and came back to sit at the table. Josie stared.  
  
"Come on now, you're Captain Jack Sparrow. Now, are you afraid of a big bad storm, or do you want more rum?" she urged. Rum was everyone's friend.  
  
~~  
  
"Stupid Jack," she muttered under her breath as she trudged across the soaked deck of the Pearl to get to storage. Obviously there were some things even Jack wouldn't do. She swayed back and forth with the rocking of the ship, and then she realized that it wasn't rocking. That was her swaying. "Too much to drink," she said quietly, slipping into a haze. Rum never really got to her until the very end, when she passed out cold. And that's exactly what she did.  
  
~~  
  
Josie woke up in the same place she remembered dropping to. She rubbed her face, which she had fallen flat on, and slowly picked herself up from the deck. "Stupid Jack..." she repeated to herself as she continued on her interrupted mission to find more rum.  
  
~~~~~~~  
  
Again, I apologize for the shortness of this chapter... but I've got a bad case of brain constipation... 


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